


In Sickness and Health

by misscai



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Multi, SEP-era Jack and Gabe, Sickfic, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 04:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12100782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscai/pseuds/misscai
Summary: Maybe Gabe says he isn't sick, but you aren't at all convinced. When you take a trip to his military base, you find out the truth about his condition.





	In Sickness and Health

**Author's Note:**

> another angsty reader-insert?
> 
> another angsty reader-insert.

Your phone buzzed on your kitchen counter, bringing a smile immediately to your face when you saw Gabe's contact photo light up the screen. Setting a timer for your garlic bread, you bounced over to the counter and tapped the green button.

“Hey, baby. I'm making spaghetti, should I fix you a plate?” You wandered into the living room, pulling back the curtains on the sliding glass doors and looking out across the landscape. Your house was on the fringes of town, but it had a convenient view of the military base where Gabe was stationed. Sometimes you liked to think that you could pick out the light from his window.

“Not tonight.” His voice was rougher than usual, raspy in a way that had you worried immediately.

“Gabe, what's going on? Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Have you been to the doctor? Do you need me to drive you?”

“I'm fine,” he chuckled weakly, the sound devolving into a coughing fit. There was a wheeze to his breaths that made you nervous. Subconsciously, you started moving towards the door and the entryway table where your car keys rested. “Just wanted to hear you.”

“Softy,” you teased, keeping your voice light. He gave another strained laugh. “You really don't sound good. You should get some rest.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.” The bread timer started to beep, and you walked back into the kitchen to turn it off, keeping the phone pressed to your ear.

“I'll save you a plate for when you get better,” you told Gabe.

“Sounds amazing, _mi vida_. Enjoy your night.”

“And you better go to bed, or I'll text Jack to come and babysit you.”

“Anything but that,” he rasped playfully, and you rolled your eyes, smiling.

“Goodnight, Gabe.”

“Goodnight.”

.

You were up early the next morning, pouring soup into a thermos. Gabe might have said he was fine, but you knew him better than that. You brought along the blanket from your living room, then packed everything into your car and headed up to the military base. You got lucky, finding that the gate guard was the one who liked you and supported yours and Gabe's relationship, and he let you through without any issue, even going so far as to escort you to the barracks. From there it was easy to read the name plates, stopping when you found 'Reyes, G.' You tapped the door gently, startled when it opened. Gabe wasn't this careless.

Just inside the door, you slipped your shoes off, tiptoeing around a lump in the bed. For a moment you smiled, thinking Gabe was heeding your advice and getting the rest he needed. You sat down on the mattress, leaning in carefully to peel back the blanket. Only a pillow rested underneath.

“Gabe?” You kept your voice quiet, wondering if he was even in the room. Maybe that was why the door was open. He could have gotten an appetite and wandered into the mess hall, or he could be in a training exercise. But no, there was a slight shuffling noise from the bathroom. You peeked in through the crack of the door, and your heart dropped to your stomach. Gabe was slumped on the tile floor, his skin pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. “Oh, my God!” You dropped to your knees beside him, pulling him across your lap and pressing your hand to his forehead. He was burning up. “Gabe, baby, can you hear me?” His eyelids fluttered, opening halfway as his eyes tried to focus on you.

“ _Mi vida_ ,” he said, his throat scratching over the words.

“Shh, shh.” You brushed back sweaty curls from his forehead. “I'm going to wash you off, okay?” You tugged off his tank top and then wriggled his boxers down his legs. The shower didn't have much of a lip, just a small tile barrier between it and the bathroom. It was easy enough to lift Gabe over the lip and settle him back down on the other side. You turned the water on, keeping it lukewarm so that it wasn't too much of a shock to his fevered skin and then turning the temperature gradually down. Gabe was still only half-conscious, wincing every now and then when you pressed too hard against his muscles. You apologized each time, leaning in to brush kisses on his forehead.

When his temperature had cooled a bit and the sweat was washed away, you shut off the water and grabbed a towel to dry him off. He could hardly lift a finger to help you; the weakness was startling. “Let's get you to bed," you said, draping one of his arms around your shoulders and struggling to lift the man to his feet. It was a slow shuffle to the bedroom, and you were cautious when you laid him down, pulling the sheets up to cover his naked lower half but leaving his torso exposed. Once his head was on the pillow, you went back into the bathroom, soaking two washcloths in cold water; one went on his forehead, the other across his chest. He was shivering now, feverish chills wracking his body.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

“For what?” You stroked along his temples with your thumbs.

“For you to see me... like this.”

“Baby, you're sick. There's nothing to be ashamed of.” He turned his head to the side, kissing your palm. “Is it something going around the base?”

“You could say that,” he said with a weak chuckle. You gave him a small smile in return.

“Get some sleep. We can talk more when you wake up.” He barely even responded, his eyes already closed. You pulled the covers up a little higher, kissed the tip of his nose, then crept out of the room.

.

Jack's room was just down the hall; you had seen it on your way in. You tapped the door, relieved when Jack opened it. That relief quickly faded, seeing the pallor of his face and the sweat on his brow.

“You're sick, too. Can I help you with anything? I brought soup, and it doesn't seem like Gabe has any appetite at all, so you're welcome to have it.”

“I'm alright,” he told you, and when he smiled it was genuine. “Just a little fever.” You twisted your fingers together.

“Gabe... He's really sick, Jack. He must have caught something terrible.” Jack's brow furrowed.

“He hasn't told you?”

“About what?” When Jack hesitated, you stepped closer, refusing to let him look away from you. “Jack?” He heaved a sigh, motioning you into the room. You took a seat in the armchair; he plopped down onto the bed.

“Gabe isn't sick. At least, not in the way you're thinking. This isn't like the flu.”

“So what is it?”

“This section of the barracks, we're the best of the best. We're part of a new initiative called the Soldier Enhancement Program.” He sighed again, glancing at you. You nodded to show you were listening. “They give us injections to make us better. Stronger muscles, more endurance, a higher pain tolerance, all of that. But it's... it's all experimental. They don't really know what side effects come with the serums. Everyone reacts differently. Some of the guys... don't recover.”

“So Gabe could...”

“He won't,” Jack said, leaning forward with the intensity of his tone. “He's been sick before and he always pulls through. He's a fighter.” You nodded, but felt tears stinging the backs of your eyes. Your throat was tight.

“What can I do for him?”

“From what I hear, the biggest risk is heart failure. If his pulse stays steady, he should be in the clear.” Jack rolled his shoulders, drawing one arm across his forehead to wipe the sweat away. “Other than that, keep him cool. God knows the air conditioning in this place isn't enough.” You stood, smiling faintly at Jack and crossing over to hug him.

“Can I do anything for you, Jack?” He patted your back kindly.

“I'm doing fine. Just a little warm.” When he released you, he gave you another smile. “You just keep an eye on Gabe for me, alright?”

“I'll do that,” you promised him, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Take care, Jack.”

.

Gabe was struggling to sit up in bed when you reentered the room. You rushed to his side, using pillows to prop him up against the headboard and readjusting the sheets over his legs. When he was comfortable, you took the two washcloths and doused them in cold water again before replacing them. He shifted to the side, making room for you to sit beside him.

“You still look weak, baby. Can I get you some water? Some soup?”

“I'm alright,” he said. He lifted an arm carefully, draping it over your shoulders and tucking you against his chest. His skin was still warm beneath your cheek, but it wasn't as scalding as it had been an hour ago. You stroked your fingertips along his stomach, up and down, then in circles around his navel. 

“Jack told me about the program,” you said quietly. “About how it's making you sick.”

“Jack has a big mouth.”

“He does. But I'm glad. Otherwise I never would have known.” You cupped his cheek lightly. “Gabe, baby, I know you're a private person and I don't want to push you. But Jack, he... he told me how some of the men in your unit, they don't survive the program.” Tears were threatening you again, and you looked to the lamp on his nightstand. “If this killed you and I didn't even know you were suffering... I couldn't bear it.”

“Oh, _mi vida_.” He raised shaky fingers and threaded them into your hair, pressing his lips to your temple. “I didn't want you to worry. Or—”

“Or what?” You sat up, turning to look at him. He wouldn't meet your eyes, until you tilted his chin up.

“Or think of me as... less of a man.”

“I would _never_ think that of you,” you said vehemently, moving to sit on his lap and clutching both of his hands in yours. “You're a hero to me, Gabriel Reyes. You're putting your life at risk to protect others. There is nothing you should be ashamed of, do you understand me?” You leaned forward, peppering kisses across every inch of his face and lingering on his lips. He kissed you back with equal passion, craning his neck to chase your mouth when you pulled away. “I am in love with you, Gabe. Nothing is going to change that.” You kissed his forehead once more. “Let me support you when you need it.”

“You always do,” he said, his eyes tired but warm with adoration.

“And I always will,” you promised, squeezing his hands.


End file.
